


Slow Motion

by grapenight



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Abuse, Addictions, Death, Drugs, M/M, Mentions of Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-02 14:10:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2814854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grapenight/pseuds/grapenight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gavin is fucked up, he's aware. But maybe he's a bit more fucked up than he thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slow Motion

**Author's Note:**

> This is based off of Slow Motion by Third Eye Blind, because I was listening to it, and just the title made me think of Gavin, and then "Miss Jones taught me English" and it mentions her son, which made me think of Michael. So I decided to write a fic based off of it. Every italicized line is from the song, and it has something to do with the section underneath it. I hope someone enjoys this, I had fun writing it.  
> There are some mentions of sex, drugs, abuse, lots of bad things. If you know the song, you know there's a lot of touchy subjects. So warnings about any of those things.  
> Also, this story isn't directly chronological, it jumps around to follow the song. I can gladly clear up anything that is confusing.
> 
> Oh yeah, P.S. This might suck, I really have no idea, sorry if it does.

_Miss Jones taught me English._

Laughing, I walked into English 11, pushing my friend Ryan into the door. 

"Bastard," he said, and I replied with a smirk and a wink. 

We chose our seats in the last row, side by side. We had a new teacher this year, she didn't know to separate us yet, so we were going to make the most of it. Most teachers have a warning bell that goes off in their head, whenever they see my name on the attendance sheet. Trouble, trouble, trouble. The same went for my friends.We were all trouble, we shouldn't be allowed to interact with each other. New teachers usually didn't get the warning. Lucky them. 

"Hello, my name is Miss Jones. As you might have guessed, this is my first year here. I'm excited to meet all of you bright young people and learn some more about you. First, I'm going to start to learn your names. We're going to go around the room, introduce ourselves, and say a fun fact about yourself! Who wants to start?" The teacher, an excitedly looking woman in her 40s, said. 

She was answered with silence. She should have known better. 

"Michael? Do you want to start us off?" She asked, looking to a kid who I had never seen before. He was wearing glasses, over eyes that were now squinted, and his mouth formed a tight line. 

"No," He said, his voice harsh and stern. 

"Michael, come on now," The woman was right on the line of begging. I almost felt bad, I probably would have if it wasn't so entertaining. 

"No," He repeated, crossing his arms and sliding down in his chair. He seemed like such a people person. 

"Okay, well I'll do it for you," Miss Jones said. I raised my eyebrow, intrigued. "Class, this is Michael, my son. He's new to the school, and he loves playing video games, he spends most of his time yelling at games." 

Michael groaned and put his head on his desk. I could understand, I could only imagine how embarrassing it would be to have your mother as your teacher. But I couldn't help to laugh, like the mom was unknowingly ruining her child's social life. 

"I'll go next, Miss Jones," I said, smiling. 

"Oh, yes, go on," she encouraged. 

"I'm Gavin Free. I like playing games, too," I said. 

"Too bad you're an asshole when you play with others," Ryan added. 

"I'm an asshole all the time, give me the credit," I replied. 

"Watch you're language, boys, but that was good otherwise! Who wants to go next?" She asked. As more and more kids introduced themselves, I continued to look at Michael, until he finally looked up, and met my gaze. I smiled wide, and winked. 

 

_But I think I just shot her son, 'cause he owed me money, with a bullet in the chest, you cannot run._

"I have to do this, you owe me, I have to, believe me, I don't want to," I said, pointing my gun at Michael. His hands were clenched at his sides, his eyes flicking from side to side, looking for a way out, looking for an escape. Everyone's always looking for an escape, it's how I got where I am. 

"Gav, what are you talking about, put the fucking gun down, think about what you're doing," Michael says, practically begging. I hated begging, 

"Don't play stupid with me, don't do that now, own up," I yelled. This was the first time I had been this seriously with Michael for this long, I could tell from the surprise in his eyes. He didn't know who he was messing with. Something must have finally clicked in his mind, because he turned and ran, as fast as he could, but who could outrun a bullet? He couldn't. 

I watched, as the bullet pierced through him, red spreading through his bright orange shirt a lot quicker than I expected. He had just a few second before he was gone, forever paying his debt to me. He used those seconds to turn around, and to stare at me, his face full of disappointment and shock. 

"Why would you do this to me, Gav? I thought you were my boy," I could practically hear his thoughts as he fell. We all thought a lot of things. 

 

_Now he's bleeding in a vacant lot._

The weight of what I had done hit me too slowly, and I snapped out of my trance too late. The deed was done, Michael's blood was on the concrete. His life was in my hands, and I squashed it within seconds. Maybe I really was what everyone told me I was. Everyone but Michael. He always saw the best in me. He could be so angry, so irritated with everything, even things I did, especially thing I did, but he really saw the best in me. I don't know how he even found anything good inside my fucked up mind. He almost had me convinced I wasn't what I thought, with him, I thought I could be better. 

But with that bullet, I proved what shit I was. 

I ran to Michael, the boy I gave everything to, even my heart, as cheesy as that was, and crashed onto my knees, taking his face in my hands. "What have I done, Michael? How did I do this? This can't be real, I would never do this to you, you're the most important thing to me." 

A little voice in my head told me I was wrong. 'You love the high more than you could ever love him.' 

 

_The one in the summer where we used to smoke pot._

The first time Michael smoked pot was with me and Ryan. I was shocked when I found out he had never been high before. He was sixteen, how did people get that old without even seeing a joint? I didn't think it was possible. But Michael showed me a lot of things were possible that I didn't think were. 

He was the ultimate good boy, never smoked, drank, partied, always drove the speed limit. He did have a bit of a temper, and did curse frequently, but those were the only flaws. I didn't think they were flaws, I thought everything he did was perfect. 

It took a lot of convincing to get him to smoke, and it was the only thing I had actually gotten him to do. After he got down choking after the first time, and the high creeped on him, he actually enjoyed it. 

One day, in the same lot we went all the time to smoke, I looked at his face, memorizing all the curves, lines, colors, everything. 

"What's you deal?" he asked, after I had stared at him for a good minute. 

I blew smoke right into Michael's face, and he laughed. "Get away from me, Gavin." 

"Never," I said, kissing him softly, enjoying the warmth in his mouth. 

_I guess I didn't mean it._

How could I shoot someone I truly love? How could I even destroy another person's life? I couldn't be human, I was some sort of fucked up demon. I didn't have a soul. I would use the gun on myself now, stop my pain and suffering at Michael's loss right away, but I doubted it would even work. How could you kill a soul that doesn't exist. I also deserved to feel the pain, it was nothing compared to Michael. 

Tears streamed down my face, quite shocking for a cold blooded murderer. I couldn't explain myself. 

 

_But man, you shoulda seen it, his flesh explode._

It replayed in my head, again and again and again, it wouldn't stop, a constant flashback of those moments. The last look he gave me, his body, lifeless, on the ground. I couldn't make it stop. 

 

_Slow motion, see me let go, we tend to die young. Slow motion, see me let go, what a brother knows._

I ran away from the scene, thinking about what I should do next. Suicide was a valid option, what more did I have to live for? I probably wouldn't live much longer, anyways, not with the life I had been living. 

Dan had died three years prior, we were too young, he had so much life left. He never got a chance. We were in a fight, it wasn't our first, and we had never had any major consequences. We were small, I was almost scrawny, but we knew how to fight, and we didn't follow the rules. Neither did the guys we were fighting, one of them pulled out a knife just as Dan was running at him. He didn't even know he had been stabbed until the knife fell out with a clang. He put his hand over the wound, and pulled it back, showing blood. 

He looked at me, eyes wide. I stood there, dumb useless. What could I even do? Ryan, the evil mastermind, he jumped into action way before I could, and by his lead, we got Dan to a hospital. It was too late, he lost too much blood, and he died in the hospital. 

 

_Slow motion, see me let go, now the cops will get me._

I ran back to my apartment, looking for an answer. The lot was vacant, empty now except for a body, but it wasn't hidden, someone would find it soon, someone would find me soon. I had even left the gun there, basically doing the cops job for them. 

I could either get arrested, spend the rest of my life in jail, or take matters into my own hand. The second option was always better. 

I though, brainstormed, just like Miss Jones had beat into my head in English. Always brainstorm, don't go in blind. I could shoot myself, but I missed my chance back in the lot, to worried I wouldn't actually die. I could cut, so deep I wouldn't stand a chance, but I wasn't brave enough. I could drive off the side of the road, but I don't have my license. 

I was already walking toward my bathroom, toward the secret, deadly stash Ryan and I had. He forbid me from ever going into it, because I could kill myself so easily. It was where he drew the line. We only had them so we could sell them for good money to people who were more stupid than we were. He was going to be beyond pissed when he finds out. 

I looked at the varieties of pills, with no idea what any of them did. I took random ones, and a lot of them, before going into the kitchen to get a glass of water. I was going out the same way I lived life, through drugs. It was fitting. 

 

_But girl, if you will let me, I'll take your pants off. I got a little bit of blow, we could both get off._

The first time Michael and I had sex, I was completely sober. 

"I've got some coke, Michael, come on, it'll be fun," I offered. He refused to do anything more weed, and he only did that occasionally. 

"Gav, coke is not fun, it's illegal, and you could really fuck yourself up," Michael lectured. I had heard it all before, drugs are bad, you could die, blah blah blah. I didn't know dating Michael meant I got a personal drug counselor. It was an issue that we'd just have to agree to disagree on. 

I flopped onto the couch and sighed. "But I'm bored, Michael." 

He got up from the chair he was sitting and walked over to me, placing a knee on either side of my hips. "Why don't we do something else?" He said, leaning down and kissing my neck, unbuttoning my pants at the same time. 

I put my hands on his hips, "This is an acceptable alternative." 

"I'm not just acceptable, bitch," he said into my neck. 

"Prove it," I said 

He certainly did. It was my first time having full on sex with Michael, and also the first time I had sex without the presence of any drugs, or alcohol. It was wonderful. 

 

_Later bathing in the afterglow, two lines of coke I cut with Drano. Her nose starts to bleed, a most beautiful ruby red._

The first time I had sex, in general, I was high off my ass. It was one of the first couple times I did coke, and at the time, I thought it was the best thing I had ever experienced. The girl was older, experienced, and I thought I was in heaven. Afterwords, we each did another line, adding to the post sex haze. Her nose started to bleed, and I was entranced. Everything was beautiful. 

She was blown out of the water by Michael, even when he was fully clothed. Just a sweet smile from him erased any thoughts of the beautiful girl, blood running down her face. Michael felt real. 

 

_Slow motion, see me let go. We'll remember these days._

At lunch, a couple months after I had met Michael, it was just me and him, all of my friends were busy somewhere else. We had been dating for about a month by this time.  
I ate a fry, and forced myself to follow it. "This tastes like poo," I told him. 

"I told you to stop eating school food. I think they're literally trying to poison us. Just pack your lunch," he suggested. 

I shrugged, "I'm too lazy." He couldn't know the truth. We weren't close enough for him to know about my home life, few people were on that level with me. Michael was too pure, anyways, he wouldn't understand, not with his supporting, caring mother. 

"Fine, I'll just have to bring enough for your lazy ass," he said, giving me half his sandwich. 

"You don't have to do this," I started, but was interrupted before I could even finish. 

"Shut the fuck up and eat." 

I didn't argue with that. 

"Do you think we'll remember things like this when we're old? Sitting in the cafeteria, eating the shittiest food ever?" Michael asked. 

I took another bite of his sandwich, which was a vast improvement from the school food. "It's probably going to be ingrained in my mind forever, just the awful taste." 

"That's what you're going to remember about your high school years?" He questioned. 

"That and you, love," I said, smirking. 

"I'm already dating you, you don't have to keep flirting with me," Michael said, but I could see the redness growing on his cheeks. 

"I enjoy it," I said, pecking his cheek. 

I would remember this, being with Michael, and feeling like a normal, regular teenager, just being sappy with the boy I loved. Times like this, I felt like I had a shot at a future that wouldn't be complete shit. 

 

_Slow motion, see me let go. Urban life decays. Slow motion, see me let go. And at home, my sisters eating paint chips again, maybe that’s why she's insane._

I hated going home, and avoided it as much as possible. My mother left when I was young, too young to actually remember her. My dad, sadly, remained. He wasn't fit to raise kids, and I completely blamed him for me and Sarah, my sister, being so fucked up. I never said anything, I always took the abuse, because I learned that made it end sooner. You weren't a fun target if you didn't fight back. Sarah never learned that lesson, she fought back with all her might. 

"You're an asshole, I could get you put in prison at the snap of my fingers," Sarah yelled at him, which was followed by his absurd, drunken shouts. 

 

_I shut the door to her moaning, and shoot smack in my veins. Wouldn't you?_

I hid in my room, letting them fight it out. Sarah talked a lot of shit, but she never acted. I always waited for her to pick up the phone, call the authorities, or at least to tell someone at school, something that would result in some sort of action. I knew I would never have the courage. And she never gained it. 

Drugs were a good distraction, from my family, from my life, from my cowardice. Really anything. I would go into my closet, just big enough for me to sit down in, and shoot up. I would hide in there, riding the high, blocking out the screams and smacks. 

 

_See my neighbor's beating his wife, because he hates his life. There's a knock to his fist as he swings._

Sometimes, the rare times I was home and not hidden in my room to escape the violence, I could watch the neighbors. 

The Smiths' had a big window, showing right into their kitchen, which was perfect to look through. They either didn't notice or didn't care. Mr. Smith loved to use his fists to correct his wife, he was in the same club as my own father. 

I could watch him, and be sure that the entire world was just as fucked up as we were. My dad wasn't unique, he was the norm. There was no escaping it. 

 

_Oh man, what a beautiful thing._

Life was ugly, flawed, and harsh. 

 

_And death slides close to me, won't grow old to be, a junkie wino creep._

I could almost feel the pills fucking up my system. I had no idea what they were doing. It would be a nice surprise. I put the glass down, not wanting to make any more of a mess than I already have, and went to lay down on the couch. Michael and I had fucked on this couch plenty of times, it seemed like a good place to die. 

I had become what I hated most, I hurt the one I truly loved. It was good that I was going to die soon, because then I wouldn't have to grown even older, I didn't have the chance to turn into my father, or Mr. Smith. I could die young and just as flawed. At least I never lost my youth. 

Blackness crawled into my vision, and I attempted to smile, but couldn't. Took long enough. 

 

_Hollywood glamorized my wrath, I'm the young, urban psychopath. I incite murder, for your entertainment, 'cause I needed the money. What's your excuse? ___

I had never planned on dealing, it wasn't something I hoped to be. But life was hard, and money wasn't easy. With Ryan by my side, I was confident. He was clever, I was charming, we were an unstoppable drug dealing duo. I hated every bit of it, but when the money came in, I knew it was worth it. It was the only way we could survive. 

We started this young, before I even met Michael. He was furious when he found out. Didn't even talk to me for a week. I bought his roses in a silly way to attempt to make up, because the week without his was shit for me. I needed him, he made me better, he embraced my good and bad, and somehow made me better. 

"Did you buy these with dirty drug money?" He asked when I knocked on his door. 

"Yes?" I replied, weakly. 

"I hate you, you're going to end up getting yourself shot and leave me fucking heartbroken. And I won't even be able to blame you because I was the one stupid enough to date you," He said, jaw clenched. 

"Does that mean you still love me?" I asked, hope sparking a bit. 

"How could I not love you, dumbass?" 

I smiled and entered his house, putting the flowers on the table and kissing him. "I love you, too, and I'm so sorry I'm putting you through this." 

He pulled away after a bit, "I'm going to make you stop. Maybe not now, but eventually. You thought you were the annoying one in this relationship, you don't even know what I'm prepared to do to keep you safe." 

 

_The jokes on you._

"Gavin? Can you hear me? Do you understand me?" Someone asked, as I was opening my eyes. I was confused everything was blurry, and everything fucking hurt. 

I could vaguely make out a figure beside me, and the more I focused on it, I could see curly hair, glasses, a worried frown. Michael. 

"Where am I?" I said, my voice raspy and almost not understandable. 

"The hospital. Do you remember anything?" he replied. 

 

_Slow motion, see me let go._

Memories invaded, Michael's body, blood, pills, a rush of things, instantly contradicting what I was seeing. 

"You're dead, Michael," I cried, my accent getting thicker with my panic. "I killed you! I'm absolute scum, I need to die! I should be dead, I took all those pills, there's no way I'm alive." 

"You didn't kill me, think, look at me. I am here, I am fine. You had a really bad high, you were delusional. You thought I owed you money, and you thought you shot me. you imagined it. All of it until you got home. You really did take the pills. They almost did kill you, but I followed you when you ran out of my house, hallucinating, and I found you right after you took them. I brought you here, and they're taking care of you. I'm okay, you're going to be okay, and we're going to keep you away from drugs," Michael said, grabbing on to my hand. My heart swelled at the touch of his hand. I never thought I'd feel it again. 

 

_Oh yeah, slow motion, see me let go._

"Leave, Michael," I said, days later, when I was still in the hospital, recovering. Michael had stayed by my side constantly, leaving only for food and new clothes. "I don't deserve you, I would have killed you." 

He shook his head and sat beside me, scooting me over. "Do you really think you're going to get rid of me that easily?" 

"Most people would give up now," I said, gesturing around me, "I'm a mess, you deserve so much better." 

"I've stuck around this long, haven't I? You're wonderful, Gavin, you just have some faults, everyone does, yours are just a bit more dangerous. We're going to make it through this, okay? I'll be right here the whole time." 

I rested my head on his shoulder, enjoying his smell. 

 

_Slow motion, see me let go._

"Hello, Mr. Free, my name's Geoff, I'm your therapist. From what I understand, you want to get better, yes?" 

I nodded. 

"Alright, that's a good start. And who is this?" 

"Michael, I'm his boyfriend," Michael said, holding out his hand to shake. Geoff nodded and shook his hand. 

"Just to be clear, you don't have any drug problems, do you?" Geoff asked 

Michael shook his head, "No, I'm clean. And Gavin's going to be soon." 

"I like the confidence. Gavin, why don't you tell me a little about yourself?" Geoff prompted. 

"I like video games," I started, and then went on to tell my entire life story, to a stranger, with my love by my side. This was the first step to my recovery. There would be so many more, but I would eventually get there, with some help. And once I was good, I would help Ryan get there, too. He was always smarter than me, I knew that, and it was a lot easier for him than it was for me. I think I scared him pretty badly when I took all the pills, because he didn't take much convincing. 

Michael stayed by my side the whole way, never doubting me. He was still the pure boy I had met in his mother's English class, and I was so glad that he was there. If it weren't for him, I'd be dead. 

 

_Slow motion, see me let go._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to anyone who made it all the way through! I hoped you like it, and feel free to comment and tell me what you thought. It was something different for me to write, so I'd like to know what people think. Also, to anyone who reads Surprisingly, I'll have a chapter of that up soon, I just needed a bit of a breather, and this was a good outlet.


End file.
